


Light Fingers: Moments in Between

by theoddling



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Rating for later chapters, Semi-Public Sex, Tags for later chapters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:49:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29114052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoddling/pseuds/theoddling
Summary: Just some assorted moments that take place during or around Chapters 9 and 10 ofLight Fingers.Mostly domestic and fluffy, with hints of angst and occasional smut.
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	1. Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> Requested on my Tumblr using the prompt "Jolting awake after a nightmare and being comforted"

_“Y/N Hargreeves?” the voice on the other end of the phone asked._

_“Yes, this is her. May I ask who’s calling?” you felt every muscle in your body tense._

_You and Diego were careful, you almost never got junk or scam calls, and the ones you did were catch-alls not kind that used a name. Plus the man on the line sounded official, too official._

_“My name is Officer Chuck Beaman. I work with Eudora Patch. She’s the one that told me to call you.”_

_“Dora told you to call? Why isn’t she calling me yourself? What’s wrong?” You heard your voice rising in volume and octave._

_“Ma’am, I need you to calm down.”_

_You took a deep breath._

_“I am calm,” you spat through gritted teeth._

_“Officer Patch is currently handling a situation, but...ma’am, it’s your husband.”_

_Your heart stopped, a vice grip closed around your throat. You struggled to breathe, to fight down the blood rushing to your ears so you could hear the rest of what the police officer was saying._

_“...hospital...soon…” you caught and that was all you needed to hear._

_“Thank you officer.” You said in a rush, slamming the receiver down and rushing for shoes and keys._

_You didn’t remember the drive or walking into the entrance. Had you even spoken to a receptionist or nurse before finding your way to the right place?_

_Diego looks so small laying there in the bed, so fragile. The heart monitor beeped so slowly, too slowly. And then it began to scream._

_And so did you._

There was a hand on your shoulder, shaking you gently. The contact jolted you, cutting off the sound of your distress with a sharp gasp. your eyes flew open, looking wildly around the darkened room. 

“Hey, hey,” Diego soothed, speaking lowly to catch your attention without scaring you further.

He hovered over you in your bed, still holding onto your arm and you looked up at him, vision blurring with tears. 

“Diego?” you whispered, your dream feeling too real.

“I’m right here,” he murmured, following your movements as you forced yourself to sit up. “What’s wrong?”

You reached out for him, gripping his arms with white knuckles, afraid that he would slip like sand through your fingers if you let go now. Slowly you tugged closer until he closed the rest of the distance to wrap his arms around your shoulders. You buried your face in his chest, arms tucked under his and fingers curling in the soft white cotton across his shoulder blades. 

“Y/N?” his voice was a little firmer, feeling you trembling in his arms. 

You shook your head, not wanting to speak your nightmare into being.

“I don’t want to lose you,” you murmured eventually, voice muffled. 

“Lose me? Why would you lose me?” he hugged you tighter. 

“They...and then you were...and it...I can’t.”

“Shh, it’s okay,” he released his hold with one hand, stroking it gently through your hair in a calming motion instead. “It was just a nightmare.”

Neither of you were sure how long they sat there, wrapped in each other, you clinging for dear life and Diego just trying to be the anchor that you needed. Eventually, your shakes subsided, your tears turning to only the occasional sniffle. But still you didn’t let go, your grip on him only relaxing slightly, just enough to maybe not bruise. 

“It wasn’t just a nightmare, it was my worst nightmare. I don’t know when it became that, but it did, and it was and...” you admitted, holding your breath as you waited for his answer.

Diego leaned his cheek on the top of your head. “I’m here...what do you need?”

“You’re not allowed to die, okay?” you asked quietly, voice tiny and pleading. “Promise me you won’t.”

His only answer was a sharp intake of breath, barely noticeable if you weren’t pressed to his chest. 

Silence fell over the two of you, still and heavy. Tentatively you leaned back, pulling away to look at your husband who was staring down at you, a shaken look on his face.

“Diego, baby,” you said softly, slipping your hand down his arm to take his hand in yours and calling his attention back to you. “What’s wrong?”

“Y-you’re that worr-worried about me?” he asked, something like awe in his voice at the idea. 

“Of course I am, Diego. You’re my husband, my partner in crime, the love of my life. I can’t stand the thought of ever losing you.”

“Y/N…” you watched his face soften and he squeezed your interlocked hands. 

“I know. It’s stupid. I should be able to trust you to be careful and that nothing is going to happen, and I shouldn’t worry. Even if there was a reason to, it’s not something you can control. It’s not like you’re going out of your way to get hurt and the only way to guarantee that you would never is to ask you to stop doing what you do and I would never. I just…”

Your eyes stung as tears began to build up and then fall again, and immediately his free hand was on your cheek. 

“Stop. Baby, it’s okay.” He pulled you in, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m not going anywhere. But it’s okay if you’re scared of it. I worry about you too.”

“But you don’t have nightmares about it that wake us both up screaming.”

“No. I don’t,” his mouth twisted in a small, bittersweet smile. “I’ve got other shit instead.”

You frowned in confusion but he chuckled before you could say anything.

“We’re both a little screwed up. But we’ve got each other, and we’ll get through it.”

You smiled, nuzzling your nose against his, finally feeling the tension of the dream lift off your shoulders. 

“I’m sorry for waking you up,” you said sheepishly.

He shook his head, laying back down and pulling you with him, wrapping an arm around your waist, and burying his face in your hair for a moment. 

“Don’t apologize. I’ll wake up every 3am for you if that’s what it takes.”

“I love you, Diego,” you tried to quell the yawn that rose up as you spoke but failed, causing his rumbling laugh to vibrate through you. 

“I love you too, sweetheart. Goodnight.”

As you nestled closer, you felt sure that there would be no more nightmares, at least not for tonight.


	2. Cute but Annoying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested on my Tumblr, using the prompts: **“STOP BEING SO CUTE, IT’S NOT FAIR!”** and **“Hi, I’ve been subtle at hinting that I want your attention all day and you haven’t noticed once and now I’m pissed.”**

It was one of the rare date nights where Diego actually wanted to go out, so despite being tired from a long week at work and content to just cuddle, you agreed. Pulling out all the stops, you’d gotten dolled up and let him guide you through the city. First, was dinner out at a nice restaurant, classier than you usually bothered with but well worth waiting in a queue for. Then he had suggested continuing the night with dancing, out at a place you knew of that combined ballroom and more typical club styles to create an eclectic, exciting and ever changing affair.

You knew Diego knew how to dance, and had seen him do so on several occasions, usually with you around the apartment, but tonight he was in rare form. There wasn’t a single song he didn’t want to move to, and no matter what the music suggested, he wanted to hold you close for all of it. 

You were no slouch, but he made it a challenge of endurance to keep up with him.

A soft, romantic tune hummed from the overhead speakers and gratefully you slowed to a gentle sway with him, your arms around his neck and his on your waist. Staring into his warm brown eyes that reflected back the club lights beautifully, you felt a sort of bliss settle over you. You had always thought you weren’t meant for “peace,” and had always told yourself that love like your parents had wasn’t meant to find you, because it was easier that way, safer to protect yourself from heartbreak. And yet, here you were, enjoying exactly that. This thing between you and Diego was real and solid and staying and you saw it all in the way he gazed down at you. 

Suddenly the song ended, transitioning into a rapidfire tango, and whatever moment of contemplation you were having was lost into the steps. 

“Diego,” you said, leaning up to call directly into his ear over the music when the song finally wound down. “I’m gonna take a break, just sit out for a sec, alright?”

He frowned, looking worried or like he was about to protest. But then he nodded, kissing you quickly and letting you go. You smiled at him as you wound your way to the sidelines and he watched from the dancefloor. 

Trying to catch your breath, you leaned against the bar, turning to look out at the crowd, sweeping over it to see how Diego handled your absence. Before you spotted him though, something cool tapped against your arm, and you whipped around to find the pretty bartender smiling at you with an outstretched glass of ice water. 

“Oh I didn’t order…” you started before she shook her head.

“No, but I saw you out there tearing up the place,” she smiled. “So I figured you could use a drink, and water’s the only thing I’m allowed to give on the house.”

You laughed, accepting the drink gratefully and taking a long swallow, the cool liquid instantly soothing you. 

“Your man there, he’s pretty...intense.”

“What?” you frowned, trying to pick up on her meaning. “Diego just doesn’t know how to do things in halves.” You shrugged, used to your husband’s quirks. 

“Does that include jealousy?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him jealous actually. Why?”

“Just checking if I should sleep with one eye open or if that glare’s all bark and no bite.” 

You followed her gaze, turning back around to spot Diego, leaning against a wall, arms crossed and watching intensely. You grimaced. Jealousy wasn’t his style, but overprotectiveness definitely was. Even at a distance, you could tell he didn’t trust the bartender and was bothered by your chatting with her. 

“I’ll talk to him and make sure he knows you were just being friendly.”

“Was I?” she raised an eyebrow and smirked at you, causing you to sputter and nearly choke on another sip of water.

Carefully regaining your composure you smiled. “Well I’m flattered, but…” 

“Don’t sweat it,” she grinned, waving aside your comment, “I don’t need an answer or reciprocation. It was just a bit of harmless fun with someone pretty to liven up the boring work night.”

“I should probably get back over there,” you said lamely, and she nodded. 

Emptying the rest of your glass, you offered her one last smile over your shoulder as you dodged through the club to Diego’s side. As soon as you were in range, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you so that your back was flush to his chest and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

“I missed you,” he whispered against your skin, following his words with feather-light kisses.

You laughed, twisting out of his grasp to take his hands and tug him back toward the dance floor. “I was gone for less than five minutes.”

“I know,” he sighed, pulling you close again, hands falling to your hips. “But I always miss you. Especially when you look so pretty, no, gorgeous.” 

His head fell to your shoulder again, face pressing into you. 

“Why were you flirting with the bartender?” he asked suddenly.

“I was being friendly.” The pair of you spun around the dancefloor with the others, moving swiftly to the song. 

“Nuh-uh,” he shook his head, hair tickling your cheek. “That wasn’t just friendly.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No! Why would you assume I was? Because I don’t like my wife flirting with other people?”

“No, because you’re acting really strangely.”

“I’m not acting strangely.” 

He stepped back so that instead of dancing, you were squaring off. Several of the people around you noticed, stopping their own movements to stare at you. 

“What do you call this behavior then? Getting all cuddly and affectionate in public is not your style Diego, and neither is accusing me of flirting with someone else.”

“Well, I’ve been subtle at hinting that I want your attention all night and you haven’t noticed once! So what if I got a little pissed and more forward?”

“You’ve had my attention all night! I don’t understand!”

“Not all of it. You’ve been distracted and not really present.”

Your scowl deepened, crossing your arms across your chest. Maybe he was right that you were thinking a lot tonight, but he had no right to demand that you didn’t. And it wasn’t like you were thinking of someone else, or something else even. All your thoughts had been about Diego in some way or another. Who did he think he was, to yell at you like this?

“Now you’re annoyed with me,” he stated, voice a little softer. 

“Obviously.”

His expression softened and he stepped closer. They weren’t quite puppy-dog eyes he was giving you, but they were pretty close, and you could already feel your resolve cracking. But you were determined to be annoyed. You bit the inside of your cheek.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured, one hand coming up to rest on your elbow, face fully a smolder now.

You felt yourself melting at his touch. The rest of the crowd had faded into faint background buzz.

“STOP BEING SO CUTE, IT’S NOT FAIR!” you blurted out. “I’m trying to still be mad at you.”

“But why?”

“Because you were being jealous and grouchy and I don’t appreciate it when you get that way.”

He nodded in understanding. “If you promise to stop being mad, I’ll make it up to you. Any way you want.”

You couldn’t help the smile that cracked your face at the offer, and the way his lower rumble was suggestive of what he meant. 

“Just shut up and dance with me,” you murmured, stepping fully back into his embrace. “No more jealousy or weirdness. And tell me if you feel like I’m ignoring you.”

“Okay, I will. I promise.”

“Good, then I’ll think about forgiving you.”

He laughed, twirling you in his arms. And just like that, all the tension, all the weirdness melted away as if it had never been. 

Well into the early morning the pair of you danced, stumbling home on aching feet just as the first birds began to chirp and stir around you.

“I’m sorry about earlier.” you said, leaning exhaustedly against him as you fumbled with the building’s finicky front door. 

“What are you sorry for?” he gently took the key from your hand and opened the door himself. “I was the one not communicating.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t have to shout at you in the middle of everyone like that.”

“It’s okay, Y/N. I know you didn’t mean anything by it. And you said I was cute.” He smirked teasingly at you before taking you by the hand and leading you up the narrow stair. 

You rolled your eyes, sticking your tongue out at his back and squeezing his hand gently.

“Of course that was your take away,” you muttered as he opened the apartment door next.

“Next time—” he started but you shook your head.

“I don’t want there to be a next time. I just want us to talk.”

“Okay. And I’ll try. I’m just...still not used to someone who wants to hear me say things.”

“I know.” You wrapped your arms around him in a tight embrace that he returned in seconds. “Are we good, though. For real? No jealousy, no bitterness about confronting you?”

“Yeah, we’re good.”

You smiled, dropping onto the bed to tug off your shoes with a sigh of relief. 

“Good. I love you.”

“I love you too.”


	3. Drunken Confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested on Tumblr, using the prompt: Drunkenly confessing feelings

The gentle rattling of the doorknob made him tense, reaching for a knife on the coffee table beside him, until the sound of giggling rang from the other side of the barrier. He sighed, pulling his hand back as Y/N finally managed to get her key into the lock and come bursting through.

“Diego!” she cheered, much too loud in the stillness of the early morning. “Hi baby!” 

Her footsteps lurched like a toddler, quick but unsteady as she crossed the room and launched herself at him. He grunted, winded, as she dropped on top of him where he lay on the couch. 

“I assume you’ve got things from here, Hargreeves?” Patch laughed, leaning against the entryway. 

“Yeah, we’re good,” he groaned, slowly recovering the breath Y/N had stolen and slightly distracted by the kisses she started planting on his neck. “How much did she even drink?”

“I tried to stop her after the seventh shot, but she was really on a roll. Hit ten before the bartender cut her off. Plus a couple of cocktails earlier.”

“Great,” he sighed. “Thanks for getting her home Eudora.”

“Of course, Diego. Have a good night.” Patch offered him a smile before turning to go, closing the door behind her.

“Alright sweetheart,” he said, turning his head to look down at his drunk and very snuggly wife. “Time to get you to bed.”

She whined, burying her face further into him and refusing to move. He chuckled despite himself. 

“We’re not staying here all night. I don’t want to face the demon in the morning.”

“What demon?” her mumble betrayed how sleepy she was now that she had stopped moving, and he knew he only had a few minutes to convince her to move or he’d have to carry her to bed, somehow. 

“You.” He gently nudged her shoulder. “Come on, up.”

“‘M notta demon.” He could almost hear the scowl in her voice past the slur.

“You are when you fall asleep on the couch and wake up with a crick in your neck. Please get up so we can go to bed sweetheart?”

She was silent for a moment and he feared she had fallen asleep. 

“Fine,” she finally groaned, rolling limply off of him and landing in a seated position on the ground where she pouted. 

With hands wrapped around her middle he lifted her to her feet and supported her, guided her, to the bedroom. Sitting her on the end of the bed, he fixed her with his sternest face.

“Wait here, I’m going to get you a glass of water and I want you to drink it before we sleep, okay?” he said, and satisfied by her nod, went to do so.

When he returned he found her flopped backward, staring up at the ceiling.

“...never thought I’d be in love, ya know. Not like this, not with someone like him. He’s so good, isn’t he?” She paused as if waiting for a response. “I mean of course he is. He’s one of...no it’s not about how he was raised either is it? He’s just that way on the inside. Sweet and funny and clever and witty and kind and wonderful. And he’s so pretty. Really, beautiful. Especially when he smiles. I’m so glad I get to make him smile all the time. I hope he is too…”

He stood, stunned and staring, unsure whether to interrupt or just listen. Her drunken soliloquy was obviously about him, and it wasn’t like they hadn’t complimented each other before, or talked about loving each other, they said the words or something meaning them at least three times a day. But still, it almost felt like intruding.

“I love his smile. I love his heart. The metaphorical one and his actual one. I love listening to it when I can’t sleep at night. And I love his hair, especially when he waits a little too long to trim it so it gets all floppy and cute. I love his smile. I said that one already. I love his laugh. I love the little crinkles around his eyes. I love his eyes. And his butt. He has a really nice butt. Not as nice as Dora’s but still in class A.”

He stopped resisting the smile that threatened to split his face in half as he listened to her ramble, and was just about to clear his throat and interrupt with a teasing remark when she suddenly started to cry. Immediately, he was by her side, depositing the glass of water on the bedside table and crawling across the mattress to wrap his arms around her. 

“I don’t deserve him,” she sobbed. “I love him so much that it hurts. And he’s so good. But I’m not, I’m kinda terrible. He should have someone good, like him. It’s not fair.”

“Shh, no,” he soothed, stroking her hair as she rolled to bury her face against his chest. “No, that’s not true. You’re perfect, and I love you, just as you are. There could never be anyone else. This was...we were meant to be, Y/N.”

~

The next morning dawned bright and warm, and despite the faint throb in your head, you were glad of it. A dreary day would have only lent strength to your regrets from the previous night. As you stretched, you realized that some time after you had cried yourself to sleep, Diego had changed you out of your dress and into a comfortable albeit ragged pair of flannel pants and one of his shirts. And more importantly, you realized that you were alone in the bed, and the air carried the faint nutty scent of coffee.   
Rubbing your eyes blearily, you shambled out into the kitchen just in time to spot Diego pouring two fresh mugs of the beverage.

“Morning,” he said with a soft smirk. “How are you feeling?”

“Not too bad, all things considered.” You hesitated, biting your lip. “Sorry, I was kind of a mess.”

He circled the counter, pressing one of the mugs into your hands and kissing the top of your head affectionately. 

“Don’t worry about it, baby. Do you feel like eating?”

“Are you actually going to cook the eggs first?” you hid your smirk behind your mug as he groaned. 

“You’re never going to let that go are you?” he rolled his eyes. “It’s good protein for a workout.”

“Nope,” you popped the p dramatically. “Because it’s also disgusting. But it’s good to have flaws, even if they are little ones.”

He stiffened, face dropping just slightly before he tried to hide it behind a laugh and started pulling omelette ingredients out of the fridge.

“Diego…” you sighed.

“You were pretty drunk, Y/N,” he ventured, swiftly whisking the eggs and not meeting your eyes. “How much do you remember?”

“I wasn’t…drunk enough to forget. I know what I said. And...I meant it.” You stared at a familiar pattern of scratches in the worn countertop, feeling tears stinging at your eyes.

Warm hands were on your shoulders first, trailing up your neck to cup your face and pull it up to meet his eyes. You marveled not for the first or last time at how quickly and quietly he could move and at the fathomless depths of his eyes, how such a depth could be so warm. 

“Do you remember what I said?” he asked softly, barely above a whisper but still enough for you to hear the crack in his voice.

You hesitated, mind flickering back over the night. _We were meant to be._ The sentence bounced and echoed through you, making your heart flutter, stubbornly filling you with the sort of fuzzy bliss you used to think was only in fairytales. You swallowed and nodded.

“I meant what I said too, okay,” he pressed, resting his forehead against yours. “Every single damn word.”


	4. Brain Teasers

“Whatcha doin?” you asked casually, entering the apartment to set down the brown paper bags in your arms.

As you turned back around to lock the door, you were surprised when Diego didn’t even look up from whatever he was hunched over at the table. 

“Diego? Is everything alright?”

Concern creased your brow as you made your way over to him, groceries forgotten. 

You leaned in to kiss his cheek in greeting, frown deepening when he backed away before you could. He looked up at you, eyes stormy with rage as he gestured to the papers he had been reading. Your papers.

“The mayor’s re-election gala? I thought you didn’t hit targets with people present?” he snapped.

“I _don’t_ ,” you sighed, rolling your eyes. “I steal because I’m good at it, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to have a little fun with it when I can. And every thief dreams of having the skill to be able to rob the rich blind of their belongings right out from under their noses, while smiling at them over a flute of champagne.”

“What are you saying, Y/N?” his voice was hesitant but still laced with anger.

“That it was a game. A brain exercise. I would never actually do it.”

You reached out again, laying your hand over one of his where it rested in a fist on the table. 

“I promise, Diego. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

He sighed, relaxing almost instantly, the tension dropping from his shoulders and his hand uncurling beneath your fingers. He slowly turned his palm upward, looping his fingers through yours and giving you a gentle tug forward until he could wrap you in a hug. 

“I’m sorry for accusing and getting mad at you for no reason,” he muttered, cheek resting against the top of your head.

“All is forgiven. It did look admittedly sketchy.” You chuckled, looping your arms around his waist. “Make it up to me by putting away the groceries?”

He sighed.

“I think it’s more than reasonable,” you argued.

“Did any of it need to be chilled?”

“No, I don’t think so today. Why?”

“Then they can wait,” he hummed, trailing his lips against your jaw. “I’d rather make it up to you this way.”

You couldn’t resist the huff of amusement that escaped you, even as you tilted your head to give him more access to your most sensitive spots.

“This is not the solution to every problem, you know.” You teased, fingers tightening against his back as he nipped at your skin.

“Only most of them?”

“Groceries now, and you can be a teasing bastard later,” you scolded, trying to fight back a moan as he trailed his tongue over the spots he had been biting.

“Promise?”

Laughing, you shoved his shoulder lightly. He reluctantly let you go, chuckling and walking off to the kitchen to do as he was told. 

You stayed where you were, looking down at the papers he’d been upset by. The plan was a diagram for a simple two man lift, mostly wallets and loose bracelets. Probably the most plausible scenario you’d ever mapped out, so you supposed you could see where his confusion lay. You wondered whether you should find some other way to do these exercises, or label them so they wouldn’t be an issue again in the future.

Fighting with Diego, even just the chance of it, made you feel like your world was off-kilter. 

“You like puzzles...” he mused from the kitchen, interrupting your thoughts.

“You should know that already, Diego,” you teased, not looking up as you scooped everything into a pile.

“I do. Just...thinking out loud.”

You turned to look at him, eyebrows knitted in confusion. “Oh? About what?”

“Nothing,” he smiled mysteriously, walking over and pressing a kiss to your cheek as you dumped the papers haphazardly in a file drawer. “Don’t worry about it. Rice or pasta for dinner?”

~

“I have a surprise for you,” Diego said a few days later, not long after getting home from one of his usual shifts at the gym. “But you have to find it first. Patch helped me set up a bunch of challenges for you.”

“You’re going to make me do a scavenger hunt?” You raised an eyebrow incredulously at him.

“Yes. No? Only if you want to…?” He shifted nervously, and you couldn’t help but giggle as you gave him a quick kiss and smiled. 

“I love it. Now where do I start?”

Producing a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, he proudly read a riddle off to you. Tapping your thumbnail against your bottom lip, you listened intently to every word, mind already racing. Part of you was still trying to work out what Diego was up to, but most of you was focused on winning his little game.

~

Solving the latest of the anagram, to generate a riddle rather than a more direct instruction, you sighed, rubbing at your temples.

“Diego, honey,” you said sweetly. “Were you planning on having me play these games all night?”

“What do you mean?” he frowned.

“This is the tenth puzzle. I’m having fun but...how many are there?”

“Just a few more, I promise,” he kissed your cheek before ushering you off to follow the latest ‘clue.’ “And it’ll be worth it.” 

Under his breath he added an almost frustrated, “I hope” but you decided it was best not to respond, since you likely weren’t meant to hear it in the first place.

~

Finally, you made it to the end of Diego’s quest, and froze. All of his looping, wild goose chase steps had brought you to a quiet rooftop garden, perfectly laid out for a picnic. The borders of the secluded area were scattered with tiny candles and a few cut white roses were strewn across the large grey blanket. Somewhere, unseen among the flowers, a radio softly crooned. 

Completely at a loss for words, you turned back to Diego who hovered a few steps behind you, smiling softly as he looked at you, framed in the dim lights and flowers. Invitingly, he stepped closer, hand held out with palm turned upward. As you placed yours on top of it, he closed his fingers lightly around you and wrapped his other arm around your waist. 

“I know there’s a picnic to get to,” he murmured. “But I thought you might like to dance first?”

“I would love to,” you answered lightly, delicately placing your free hand on his shoulder.

Pressed close together, the pair of you swayed to the faint music and the night sounds around you. The more relaxed you became, the more naturally it came to you, as if the pair of you were one entity, and you wanted to stay there forever.

“Not that you’re not welcome to do romantic shit whenever you feel like it, but what’s all this for, Diego?” you asked eventually, quietly so that you didn’t shatter the moment. 

“It’s our anniversary,” he led you in a graceful twirl so that you were tucked against his body, back to chest. 

“No it’s not…” you let yourself there in his arms, gently rocking in time, for a moment before spinning back. 

“Of the day we met,” his arm tightened around your waist to pull you a little closer. “Three years ago today. I tried to time it to the hour but you solved everything quicker than I thought you would.” 

“You remembered that?” you stumbled a step, but he was quick to hold you up and help you find your rhythm again. 

“Obviously. It was important. I knew it even then. You didn’t?”

“No? At the time I didn’t think anything of it,” you shrugged. “It was just another Wednesday.”

“You don’t remember the date,” the air rushed past as he dipped you and quickly righted you once more, “but you do remember that it was a Wednesday?”

“Sure. There’s only seven days in a week to keep track of, as opposed to 365 in a year.”

He chuckled and shook his head, slowing to a stop and gesturing to the picnic blanket, wordlessly suggesting you take a break. He had laid out some of your favorite foods on little plates, and a fancy bottle of lemonade, that if you knew him at all was probably freshly homemade by Grace, stood beside two thin-stemmed glasses.

“Diego...everything tonight has been so perfect,” you sighed, tears springing to your eyes as the pair of you settled into comfortable seated positions. “The food, the flowers, the garden. The fact that it feels like up here, we could be the only two people in the world.”

“It’s also the best place in the city to see the stars,” he offered casually, popping a chunk of fruit into his mouth.

“How long have you been planning this?”

“A couple of weeks. I had help with the execution.” 

You wanted to fling yourself into his arms and shower him with kisses, but since that would have required upsetting everything he had worked so hard to put together, you refrained.

“I feel awful now that I didn’t remember and get you anything or do anything for you in return,” you admitted, biting your lip.

“Don’t. I did this because I wanted to treat you and show you how I feel. But I don’t need you to reciprocate. Just...having you here, with me. _With_ me. It’s more than I could ask for.”

“Okay, that’s it,” you muttered and began shifting plates and bowls and the two wine (or rather lemonade) glasses off to the side.

“What are you doing?” he asked, watching you with a puzzled expression.

“Clearing a path so I can do this.” 

You reached across the space, closing the gap between you and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Pressing your lips to his, you tried to channel all of your emotions into the connection. Unsurprisingly, he kissed you back, one hand cradling the back of your head and the other finding your hips to pull you flush against him. Running your tongue across his lower lip in askance, you smiled into the kiss when he opened up for you. As you mapped the details of each other with tongue and touch as if you didn’t already know them all by heart, he drifted onto his back, bringing you across his lap to straddle his hips. 

“This was supposed to be romantic,” he pointed out as you both broke for air. 

“It is romantic. There’s stars and candles and roses. All the hallmarks,” you teased, rolling your eyes. “Unless you’d like to stop?”

“No!” his grip on your waist tightened, stopping you from your feigned movement to climb off of him. “I was just saying...”

“ _I_ was just going to kiss you and then go back to our very sweet picnic. This position was all you,” you smirked down at him.

“That’s not…” he sighed, realizing that he was, as usual, rising to your bait.

“I know,” you placed a swift, chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. “But you’re so much fun to tease, baby. Have been since day one. Although I think then I said something about _you_ pinning _me_ , not the other way around.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him and hummed in agreement.

“This view is so much better though. Is teasing all you plan to do, sweetheart?” His expression shifted to a smirk of his own as he rolled his hips beneath you. 

“It wasn’t, but if you’re going to play dirty...it’s tempting.” 

Your lips found the most sensitive point beneath his jaw and you sucked lightly on it, drawing out a groan from him. You could feel his hardening length strain against his pants, pressing against your belly as you continued to lavish attention on the spot. 

“Y/N,” he moaned. “Baby, please…”

“How can I say no when you beg so pretty for me like that?” you murmured against his skin. 

His fingers dug into your hips as you rocked back enough to give better access. Bit by bit, you slowly, reverently undressed each other, pausing frequently to explore the exposed flesh with hands and lips. Fully bare before him, and him before you, you felt a hot blush creep across your cheeks at the way he looked up at you. There was desire in his eyes, yes, but more than that, he seemed to be staring as if you were a work of art, as if no matter how many times he’d seen you, he couldn’t believe that you were real. 

Awed tears stung at the corners of your eyes as you tilted your head downward and kissed him. Your lips slotted against each other, moving in perfect pattern as his hands trailed down your spine and back up again. You trailed a finger across his cheekbone before you pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, now fluttering back open.

“Ready?” you asked, a small smirk on your lips.

“For you? Always,” he answered, reaching between you and 'accidentally' brushing his fingers against your folds before lining himself up with your entrance. 

Slowly, you sank down, sheathing him in you completely, a shuddering sigh escaping as you did. Bracing your hands against his chest, you rolled your hips experimentally, sparks of pleasure shooting through you as the motion dragged him against every sensitive inch of your core. 

“God you’re beautiful,” he whispered reverently, tracing patterns across your skin as you continued to move.

Every brush of his fingers across your back and sides left a trail of fire behind. You bent your head to dust butterfly-light kisses across his chest, taking time to focus in particular on the scars you found there, mapping them. Gradually your pace increased as he began to roll his hips in time with yours, one hand holding your hip to keep you steady and the other massaging lightly at your breast. 

“Diego,” you moaned, begging him for the last little push you needed to make you fall apart. 

“Love the way you moan my name baby,” he purred. “Say it again. Please, baby?”

Teetering just on the edge of bliss, you complied, chanting his name like a prayer against his lips as he stretched up to kiss you again. The feel of his tongue dancing with yours and his hand tightening as his thrusts became sloppy and uneven made you cry out. He swallowed the sound hungrily, answering it with a swear as his release found him and he painted your insides with his seed. He gave a few more thrusts, bringing his free hand down to tease your clit and finally drive you over the edge, spasming around him, before he gently pulled out and you collapsed forward onto his chest, panting for breath.

“Christ, that was incredible,” you sighed.

“You always know how to make me feel so good baby,” he huffed in answer, still out of breath.

Sweaty and sated, you laid there for a while, listening to his racing heart as it slowly resumed its normal pace. Eventually, despite the warmth of the evening, your skin began to prickle with chill and you rolled off him, sorting through the pile of discarded clothing and passing his to him. 

“I don’t know about you,” he said with a smirk, “but I’ve worked up an appetite now.”

You rolled your eyes, laying back down on the blanket with him and reaching lazily for the food you had set to the side. 

“Typical,” you remarked in faux-disgust. “Sometimes I swear you are such a... _man._ ”

With you comfortably tucked into his embrace, the pair of you picked at the offerings he’d packed for a while until you had your fill. Once neither of you had any interest in the food any longer, Diego laid back again, pulling you with him, finally gazing at the view of the stars he had promised you. In satisfied silence, you snuggled against him for a while. 

“You said you knew us meeting was important,” you said softly, trailing a finger over the thick band of muscle in his forearm as it rested across you. 

“I did.” You weren’t sure if his affirmation was of his statement or what he claimed to have known back then.

“Did you guess why? Or think we’d end up here?”

“Are you asking if it was love at first sight?” he countered, turning to look at you, warm breath fluttering your hair and tickling your ear.

You bit your lip. “I guess, yeah.” 

“It wasn’t that...clear,” he said haltingly, struggling for words.

On instinct you wound your fingers through his and gave them a gentle squeeze. You stayed silent, waiting, giving him all the time he needed. 

“But I think it was. Or something close.”

“Oh.” 

You weren’t sure what you’d been hoping to hear, or what to say to that. It scared you, in a way, to know that he’d felt so deeply for you right from the start. It scared you to admit, to risk hurting him by doing so, that you...hadn’t. Your initial draw toward him was curiosity, for most of that first year, and you had fallen in love in little pieces, giving him your heart bit by bit until one day you looked up and realized he had all of it, and you were all the happier for it. It wasn’t love at first sight, not by any means. But something about it, even at that first meeting, was inevitable.

“Y/N?” Diego asked softly, pulling you out of your racing thoughts. “Where’d you go just now?”

“I…” you licked your lips, throat feeling dry and tongue feeling heavy, “was just thinking...about when I knew…”

“And?”

“And I don’t actually remember falling in love with you. One day I wasn’t. And then I was.”

He ducked his head, kissing your shoulder, soft lips lingering on your skin. 

“That’s okay,” he murmured against your skin. “What matters is now.”

For a long time, you laid in silence, the radio still humming indistinctly, the stars twinkling overhead. Eventually you sighed.

“We should probably go home before we fall asleep here. It’s late,” you suggested.

“Hm. You’re probably right,” he hummed in agreement, though he made no move to actually do so. 

“Diego?”

“I’m just enjoying the moment a little longer. Enjoy it with me?”

You laughed, shaking your head as you snuggled tighter against him. “I guess I can manage that.”


	5. Puppy Love

You tapped Diego on the shoulder, nodding your head in the direction of the faint clatter you’d heard. 

The pair of you had popped in to stop a home invasion, but one of the perps had taken off with a priceless family heirloom, and you’d agreed to give chase. Unfortunately, he had a head start and you had lost him in the warren of a crowded parking garage. 

Diego pressed a finger to his lips and nodded, gesturing with his free hand for you to circle around while he approached from the front to draw attention.

You met his eyes for a brief moment, lower lip worrying between your teeth. You gave his arm a brief squeeze before nodding and setting off. No matter how long you’d been doing this, you worried about him when his plans worked out like this, with him picking fights so you could have the element of surprise. As you moved, quick and quiet, something felt wrong about the situation. Hesitantly, you fingered the knife that Diego had insisted you started carrying on these jobs, not pulling it out yet, but reassuring yourself that it was there and easily accessible. 

There was another scuffling sound and a soft whine, one that didn’t sound human. You picked up your pace now, running in the direction of the noises. There, huddled in the corner of the garage, caught and tugging on the corner of a dumpster, was a small, shivering dog. 

“Hi there,” you said softly, sinking low and holding your hand out as you crept closer to the frightened creature. 

You heard pounding footsteps behind you as Diego ran up, the sound making the dog yelp and try to cower more.

“Shh, shh,” you hummed, shifting to sit cross-legged in front of it, blocking it’s view of Diego, and giving you a more steady position to hold the little creature still while you unhooked it’s collar from the sharp, bent edge of the trash.

Once freed, you expected it to squirm in your arms or try to run, but instead, it stayed, pressed lightly against your leg, shivering. It was covered in so much mud you could hardly tell it was meant to be white and stank horribly (or maybe that was the bins), but you were pretty sure someone would be missing it. 

“Think you can find our bad guy on your own?” you murmured as Diego peered over your shoulder. “I don’t want to abandon this little one to its own devices.”

He couldn’t help chuckling. “Yeah, I got it. Meet you back here?”

“I’m not waiting for you by the dumpsters. I’ll meet you by the entrance.” 

~

After returning the expensive and hideous brooch to the family, and turning the would-be-burglars over to the cops, you and Diego made your way home, the little dog wrapped in a towel in your arms. The family hadn’t ever seen it around before, and the tag had the dog’s name, “Penny,” but no name or address of an owner.

“It’s alright Penny,” you told her as you walked. “We’ll get you cleaned up, take some nice pictures and put up flyers. I’m sure someone’s missing you and will be excited to have you home again soon.”

“Why don’t we just take it to the shelter?” Diego asked gruffly, trying to hide how cute he thought Penny was.

“Shelters are overcrowded and understaffed. They have a hard time caring for the dogs that need homes, let alone the ones that just got lost and get brought to them. Besides, I...want to make sure her family gets her back, and that’s easier to do if we make the handoff.”

Diego shook his head, slightly exasperated. “Fine. But if it takes more than a few days--”

“We’ll discuss that only if we have to.” You shifted the dog so that you would have a free hand and bopped Diego’s nose teasingly. “Don’t be a grump.”

He gaped at you. “For that, I’m not helping you wash it.”

“Of course you’re not, baby. You’re going out to buy kibble and a leash.” You smiled winningly at him.

~

Penny was with you for just over a week before you got a call during dinner one night. The man on the other end of the line said that he had seen your flyers and was sure that the dog you found belonged to his elderly mother. She had been worried sick when the dog slipped out, but hadn’t been able to follow it, and because of his work, he hadn’t been able to put out ‘missing’ posters. You told him you were glad he called and asked if he had evidence the dog was his or his mother’s. He told you he’d bring a picture of the two of them together, and arranged to meet you at Griddy’s Doughnuts the next morning. 

During the time she was there, Penny settled in quite well with you and Diego, excited when either of you left and came back, quite happy to sit on your laps while you watched tv or read at night, curling up at the foot of the bed when you went to sleep. She and Diego in particular, for all his protests, seemed inseparable. For all his protests at first, he seemed to enjoy all of her antics, and slipped her food off his plate when she gave him big sad eyes and he thought you weren’t paying attention. When you told him that her owner had finally called, he hid a frown behind a cough.

“Diego,” you sighed, seeing his face fall anyway. “You knew we couldn’t keep her…”

You were just as sad as he was, if you were being honest. You had never really imagined yourself a dog person, the idea of having a pet so far off your radar as to be unfathomable. But Penny had slotted into your lives like a missing piece, and as glad as you were to return her, safe and happy, to her home and the people that loved her, you and Diego loved her too.

“I know,” he said softly. “Just. It’ll be weird once she’s gone.”

You bit your lip, considering the words that bubbled up your throat before letting them fall from your tongue, nearly as impulsive as your marriage proposal.

“Ya know...we could...get a dog of our own?” you shrugged, trying to play off the idea as a casual thought.

~

It was hard not to be overwhelmed by the smell and sound within the shelter’s kennel area, over two dozen dogs baying, barking, and bouncing on the chain-link fencing as the pair of you were led through to an open area where you could do some meet and greets. 

Nervously you sat on the bench, fingers laced with Diego’s and running your thumb back and forth over his knuckles. 

“Hey,” he said, leaning in to whisper in your ear. “Talk to me.”

You shrugged, biting your lip. “I dunno. This just feels big, suddenly. And what if we can’t find one that likes both of us, or what if we fuck it up. I’ve never...taken care of another living thing before. Not by myself.”

“You take care of me all the time,” he said, tugging you into a hug. “And you won’t be alone. We’re in this together remember?”

Your smile was watery but genuine as you returned the hug, burying your face against his neck.

“How did I ever do shit without you?” you murmured, backing away but not fully letting go.

He didn’t have a chance to respond with more than a squeeze of your joined hands as Martin returned with the first dog. 

“I thought we’d start with some one-on-one interactions with a few dogs I think would be a good fit based on what you told me, and then we’ll see who clicks and you can have some time to play with the top two or three, pick from there.”

You nodded, holding your hand, palm out, toward the black lab tugging at the leash he held. He introduced her as Sheila, and while she seemed friendly, your heart wasn’t in it. The same feeling continued through several other perfectly nice dogs, and though you were both tempted by a roly-poly border collie puppy and by a sweet but very lazy bulldog, as soon as the handler had left the room with them, you’d looked at each other and known it wasn’t right. 

“Can we...maybe, just walk through the kennels and see if something I don’t know...calls to us?” you asked hesitantly after about the eighth dog you felt no real connection with. 

“Oh!” the man looked surprised you had even suggested it and took a long moment to process the request. “Sure, we can do that.”

Wrapping his arm around your shoulder, Diego pulled you against his side as the pair of you followed Martin back into the kennels.

“You know we don’t have to find a dog today, right?” he asked softly, sensing your continued nerves. “If nothing here works out, we’ll keep looking.”

“I know,” you sighed. “I just…got really excited, and now I feel like we failed or something.”

“Well, we haven’t yet.”

Suddenly, you stopped short, jerking Diego along with you, so quickly that your guide didn’t even notice. Staring up at you, his black fur almost lost in shadow but for his white bib, the boxer gave you the biggest, saddest eyes you had ever seen. Crouching down, you tentatively reached your hand outward, pressing it against the chainlink.

“Hi…” you cooed as he edged forward, crawling on his belly until he could sniff and then attempt to lick your fingers from the other side. 

Diego mirrored your stance, kneeling in front of the kennel door, and by the time Martin realized you were no longer behind him and doubled back, the pair of you were enraptured and the dog was no longer cowering, instead bouncing and pawing at the fence to try and get to you, tongue lolling out of his mouth and slobbering on as much of you as he could reach. 

“Oh,” he said, sounding almost disappointed. “You met Duncan…trust me, you don’t want him.”

“What?” you asked, whipping your head around to look at the man. “Why not?”

“He was born here, runt of the litter so for a while no one wanted him. Now he’s almost two and he’s ended up back here from four homes already. Can’t figure out why, but he just doesn’t work out.”

“Well there must be something going on,” you argued. “Or else that wouldn’t be true right?”

Martin shrugged. “I guess. But it ain’t my place. I just know the poor bastard’s probably going to live his whole life in there.”

“No,” Diego said, turning to you and smiling when you gave him a brief nod. “Because we’ll take him.”

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea. And it seems cruel to give him false hope a fifth time.”

“It won’t be false. We won’t give up on him,” you insisted. “I understand wanting to protect him, and us, but please. Just...trust us.”

“You’re sure there’s not another dog you want instead?”

“No,” Diego said firmly. “We want Duncan.”

At the sound of his name from Diego’s mouth, his ears perked up and he sat down patiently, expectantly almost. 

We know a thing or two about loving the unloved, you wanted to say, this was fate you wanted to argue. But how could you even begin?

“Let’s go take care of the paperwork and...see what my boss says.”

~

Later that night, as you rested your head against Diego’s chest on the couch, not really watching the movie on the tv, you found yourself anxiously drumming your fingers on his knee.

“Y/N,” he said knowingly, catching and stilling your hand, rubbing his thumb soothingly over your knuckles.

“Do you think they’ll approve us?” you asked, voicing the question on both your minds.

“I don’t know. We just have to wait,” he chuckled, shaking his head as you opened your mouth to interrupt, “patiently. And see what happens. Hope it’ll work out.”

You groaned. “Why do you have to be right all the time?”

“It’s a carefully honed talent.”

~

Diego’s keys jingled in the doorknob and you held your breath, praying that your companion would stay quiet.

“Just another minute boy,” you muttered. 

As soon as you heard the door shut behind your husband, you let go of Duncan’s collar and he bounded over, his entire body wriggling along with his stubby tail. Diego swore, startled by the dog’s sudden appearance from around the corner, and you couldn’t help laughing as you followed, more sedately behind.

“Wha—” Diego said, kneeling to ruffle Duncan’s ears, leaning away as his lolling tongue tried to lick his newly accessible face. 

“You didn’t steal him did you?” he asked, teasing smile lighting his features.

“I am hurt and offended that you would even suggest such a thing,” you said dramatically, a hand pressed to your chest for effect. “This was completely legitimate, and Duncan is now our dog. Or technically _my_ dog, until you go sign your copy of the adoption contract tomorrow morning.”

“That’s...we have a dog…” he breathed, shock settling over him. 

“Diego, are you crying?” you asked gently, concern overriding your amusement. 

He was silent and you moved to his side, sitting down, next to your husband and dog and wrapping an arm around each of them.

“They’re happy tears right?” you asked, feeling some of your own building as it suddenly struck you that this right here was a family, a happy family, and all your own. 

“The happiest,” he murmured, managing a quick kiss to your temple just before the moment was broken by Duncan licking a long stripe up his cheek and flopping over onto your laps for a belly rub, sending you both into a fit of laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is a studio apartment an appropriate space for a boxer? Should inexperienced owners adopt a dog that the shelter thinks is a “problem” dog? Probably not, as a rule. But individual dogs have individual needs, they’re active-lifestyle adults, we’ll assume there’s a dog park nearby, and also it’s fiction and I think it’s cute, so...


End file.
